


Closer to Fine

by CatelynJones



Series: The Avengers Need a Full-Time Shrink (Stand alone fics in same universe) [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Bucky Barnes & Clint Barton Friendship, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Deaf Clint Barton, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt Tony Stark, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, general not wanting to deal with life feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-22 00:00:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9572735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatelynJones/pseuds/CatelynJones
Summary: Here he was. Standing in his workshop, waiting for Steve Freaking Rogers to knock at the door and pick him up for their date.This is not where he had seen his life going. Tony was tempted to design a programme to ensure there was a warning system in place to let him know if he slipped through to an alternative universe. But he honestly had no idea how to approach that and he had a feeling that asking Bruce would just end with a lecture on allowing himself to be happyOr: The one where Steve and Tony are dating, but love can't fix everything because falling in love does nothing to change how your brain deals with stress and shitty semifinals esteem.Well, not right away anyway





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have the fic all mapped out, so I already know where this train is headed. Some of the details may change, but for once in my fic writing life, I actually have a plot planned.
> 
> Shocker, I know.
> 
> Things you should know: this fic will get a little heavy in the middle. But as of right now, no one dies and there is a happy ending. No character has been written as an intentional asshole. Sometimes, they will say asshole-y things, but that is only bc they ar (mostly) human and not all knowing and people make mistakes.
> 
> I also have a lot of love for Clint and Bucky as a pairing, but I am yet to decide if that will be a thing, so I will keep you posted.
> 
> I also have no beta, so if you find any mistakes, please tell me!
> 
> And without further ado, let's get on with the show!

Tony was bent over the bench in his workshop, face scrunched in sheer concentration as he fussed over the plans. For once, the genius was almost clean. Today was a planning day, not a building day and so the dirt on his person came from pencil, paper and general workshop debris. Oh, and that fourth cup of coffee. Dum-E had run into his leg and knocked Tony over as he went to take an absent-minded gulp of the life giving black liquid and half of it ended up on his shirt. It was a sign of his focus ( _or lack thereof_ – Tony’s mind helpfully supplied) that he didn’t even stop to threaten the clumsy bot. He barely noticed the spill at all to be honest. Which was a worry since the coffee had been fresh and piping hot.

There was a reason that JARVIS had _strongly_ suggested that his top priority for the day should be to perfect the latest batch of blueprints to be sent to the fabrication department.

Tony huffed in frustration as he cut his finger on a sheet of paper as he thumbed through the completed work. Normally, all of this would have been done on the sophisticated holographic displays that every flat surface in the Avenger Tower seemed to be equipped with, but there was something about the floating and moving lights that Tony couldn’t deal with today. The swinging and sweeping motion of the graphics had made him want to scoop his eyes out with a rusty spoon and so he opted to do things the old-fashioned way for a change.

Some intern over at R&D could have the dubious honour of digitising the plans later. Wouldn’t be hard, he had excellent equipment and programmes after all. Even the explosion happy lackeys of the SI development team should be able to get through them with minimal mistakes.

Swear softly as the small cut welled up with an overly dramatic amount of blood, Tony pushed Dum-E and his proffered oily rag out of the way and reached for a tissue and wrapped up the small wound. Normally, Tony wouldn’t bother. It was just blood. But if the plans were going to be sent to SI then _apparently,_ they should be free of bodily fluids. Tony had been reminded by Pepper more than once that although he may play fast and loose with his personal safety, the Work Place Safety Officer for the R &D department did not appreciate having to take complaints over biohazardous waste being sent via bike messenger. Sparing a thought for the poor officer’s sanity, Stark checked over the work for any signs of blood. Satisfied with his skills at appeasing the Workplace Safety God for the day, Tony was reaching for his cup of coffee when a crisp, british voice cut through his focus.

“Sir, if I may remind you, the time is now 6:30pm and if you wish to make yourself presentable before your date, it would be wise to cease working.”

Tony looked up from the plans and frowned, “J- are you sure, I swear it is only like, midday, at the latest.”

JARVIS seemed to sound irritated when he replied, “Sir I am rather certain indeed. I am not known to make such simple errors.”

Tony chuckled, “Yeah true. Ok. Have the plans sent over to R&D. I guess I should shower and get changed?”

“Given you have been working for 12 hours straight, I believe that anyone with an olfactory center would greatly appreciate it.”

Tony rolled his eyes as he made his way over to the small en suite in the corner of the workshop where the shower was already running hot and a clean and neat outfit had been laid out for him. “Jarvis, remind me to programme you to be less of a sassy shit?”

The disembodied response was curt, yet seemed fondly amused, “Certainly sir.”

Shaking his head at his AI’s sly wit, Tony stripped off and stepped into the shower. Hot water ran over his body and tension he hadn’t fully been aware of slipped out of his body. As the layers of sweat, graphite and coffee were stripped away the genius felt centered in a way he hadn’t all day. The shower just felt… Cleansing. It was easy to stand there and allow himself to be lost in the sensory overload of the water hitting his skin and rolling off, the sounds of the droplets slashing and the gurgle of the drain. Of the smell of the ridiculous body wash he loved and the faint chlorine bite that he hated.

And they always had to end too soon. Sighing, Tony shut off the water and quickly towelled himself off with one of the soft and oversized towels all bathrooms in the tower came equipped with and began dressing in the outfit that Natasha had picked out for him.

The entire team had a vested interest in tonight going well. Steve and Tony had been dancing around each other for months and it was out of sheer frustration that the rest of the Avengers had shut them in the library together, Mjolnir holding the door closed, until the two of them did something about the insane levels of flirtatious bickering they had subjected everyone to for the last 8 weeks. Eventually Steve had walked up to Tony, taken his hand and asked if he could take Tony out to dinner. Tony had stammered a reply in the affirmative, the rest of the team shouted “FINALLY” from behind the closed doors and a week later, here Tony was.

Standing in his workshop, waiting for Steve Freaking Rogers to knock at the door and pick him up for their date.

This is not where he had seen his life going. Tony was tempted to design a programme to ensure there was a warning system in place to let him know if he slipped through to an alternative universe. But he honestly had no idea how to approach that and he had a feeling that asking Bruce would just end with a lecture on allowing himself to be happy.

Scoffing at that thought for several reasons, Tony slipped on his shoes. Nat had informed him that although the date itself was a surprise, she had been assigned to ensure that he was appropriately dressed. Apparently, this simply constituted jeans, one of his comfortably worn, but not ratty band shirts, a bomber jacket he hardly ever wore and boots. Running a hand through his hair, Tony suppressed the urge to make JARVIS lock the workshop down. This date was clearly a terrible idea and would go horribly and it would be better to just not even start, let Steve deal and then go back to arguing 24/7. But he didn’t. Mostly because Tony was fairly certain JARVIS would simply refuse and also partly because Tony swore he would never be the reason for the patented ‘Steve Rogers: Kicked Puppy’ expression. And locking the door in the good Capsicle’s face would certainly result in the kicked puppy look.

_Goddamn it_

It would have been better to politely turn Steve down when he asked Tony out in the first place. Sure, he would have been sad, but he would have bounced back quickly. The man was nothing if not polite and considerate. If Tony had just said that the feelings were not mutual…

But then Natasha would kill him.

And it would have been slow and it would have been painful.

_Not worth it_

Huffing out a sigh Tony dropped himself onto the couch and rested his forearms on his thighs, right leg bobbing nervously up and down. Scraping a hand through his still wet hair, Tony tried to force himself to calm down. Paradoxically, his respiration sped up. It was 7:32pm and Steve was 2 minutes late.

_It’s because he isn’t coming_

Pushing to his feet, Tony stalked over to his work bench and opened the top draw and pulled out the flask. If he was going to sit around and wait for someone who clearly isn’t showing up, he was going to get drunk while doing it.

No sooner than the first mouthful of scotch slid down his oesophagus, there was a loud knock at the workshop door.

“Sir, Captain Rogers is requesting access to the workshop. Shall I unlock the door?”

At JARVIS announcement, Tony hastily recapped the flask and threw it on the bench. He coughed and straightened his shirt as he walked to the door, carefully hiding his anxiety under a mask of easy-going humour. “Yeah that’d be good J. Thanks”

***

“Well, the lover boys are off and running,” Clint announced as he dropped from a ceiling vent to land lightly next to Natasha and Bucky in the kitchen. Natasha rolled her eyes while Bucky clapped his hands together.

“‘Bout fucking time…’ Bucky huffed quietly, “God if they didn’t leave soon I was going to shoot them both.”

Sighing fondly, Nat turned to Clint, “You do know that the tower has doors right? And elevators and hallways that are larger than 3ft square.”

Clint grinned, “You know, I have heard that,” Clint replied in a smart arse tone, “but I just don’t think it is as fun. Also, you don’t overhear nearly as many conversations.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed and she waited for Clint to continue.

Clint pushed on, “What I am trying to get at Agent Romanoff, is that I _know_ you know where Cap is taking Stark tonight and I think you should share the goss.”

Bucky’s head snapped up from the microwave, “Wait, you know? Why do YOU know?! Steve’s _my_ best friend!!’

Natasha threw Clint a glare before rolling her eyes at Bucky’s hurt expression, “Buck, for starters Steve doesn’t have to tell you everthing. If Steve had wanted you,” she turned to Clint, “ _either_ of you, to know what the plan was, he would have told you himself. But really, are you surprised? The two of you are not known for your secret keeping ability.”

Clint looked wounded, “I am a highly trained SHEILD operative with access to highly classified intelligence! And Bucky was the world’s most feared assassin! If Earth’s Mightiest Heroes can’t be trusted with freaking _date_ plans, then how can we be trusted to protect the planet?!”

“I wonder the same thing every day. I don’t know how in hell you got through your security clearances because you and Barnes over here are some of the biggest gossips I know.” Replied, gesturing at Bucky who was still moping over being left out of the circle of trust. Ignoring the two men, she stalked into the living room where Bruce was watching TV. Clint followed her, grabbing Bucky by the arm on the way.

Bruce looked up as the three of them entered the room and cocked an eyebrow at the display. Nat was walking towards him as if she were totally oblivious to the moping super soldier being dragged by the archer, trailing in her wake. The two men were now bickering between them over which was the least trust worthy. Bruce smiled at his friends. He never expected to have friends, let alone ones he could live with in such a comfortable manner. Even at their most annoying and frustrating, Bruce looked at his team mates with the sort of fondness that most people reserved for their kids doing something particularly endearing.

Bruce was snapped out of his reflection by the mention of his name “Look, Bruce will back me up on this, but neither of you can be trusted with anything that isn’t directly related to a national or international secret. Anything less important than that and the two of you are meeting in darkly lit rooms and swapping titbits like old ladies. I didn’t want Tony’s night ruined by your enthusiastic thirst for secrets.”

Nat looked at Bruce for back up, “She’s right. Remember the surprise party incident?”

Clint rolled his eyes and Bucky threw his hands up, “It’s not _my_ fault that I don’t understand how email works! Clint never taught me the difference between ‘reply’ and ‘reply to all’!”

“ _Traitor,”_ Clint whispered to Bucky.

***

Tony ran a hand through his hair as the elevator doors closed on his blonde team mate. As far as dates went, it was a good one. Actually, scratch that, it may have been the best Tony had ever had. Steve had picked Tony up from the workshop door with a gentle kiss on the cheek. They had left the tower on the back of Steve’s bike and eaten at a tiny diner in Brooklyn where no one looked at them twice. Steve took the scenic route home, stopping to walk hand in hand through the Central Park. The conversation had been light and relaxed. Banter came easily and stayed on the right side of teasing. There were no awkward silences and no work talk. When the night came to an end, Steve had walked Tony to his door and kissed him good night.

Nothing had gone wrong. It really was a perfect night.

It was a first.

And it was shocking.

***

Tony kept waiting for it to sour. Each date had been as perfect as the first. Steve was gentle and patient. He never pushed for more than Tony was willing to give and the man seemed to actually listen and pay attention when Tony spoke.

He never brought Tony flowers _(“Flowers are so weird right? Like you are literally saying ‘I like you, have a bunch of dismembered plant sex organs’. So romantic’)_ , and he always let Tony sit with his back to the wall.

The man was so damn considerate and Tony had never felt so _loved_. It made him want to do better, to be better. He got rid of the booze stashed away in the workshop and his penthouse. If he was going to drink, it would be with the team, not holed up alone with only JARVIS for company. Tony made attempts to keep some sort of regular sleep and eating schedule in an effort to see Steve as much as possible.

For the first time in a long time, Tony made an effort to look after himself.

Steve rewarded the efforts with soft, gentle kisses and stroking hands. When they did eventually make it to bed, Steve had made it his mission to shower every inch of Tony in adoration and love. Tony responded in his own way. Quietly, Steve began to notice things around him changing. At some point the tiles in his bathroom had become heated, so he no longer dreaded the cold of them in the morning. His pantry slowly filled with his favourite 40’s comfort foods and someone seemed to have tracked down a damn good replica of his favourite shaving cream.

Little things.

But the reminded him that someone loved him.


	2. Chapter 2

Of course, nothing lasts forever.

***

Tony rolled over and scrubbed a hand across his face, stubble scratching roughly across his palm. It was 2 am and the genius billionaire was awake and staring at the ceiling, lit but the dim blue glow of the arc reactor. Steve was, of course, asleep. Because he was a normal person. Whose brain didn’t keep him awake all freaking night.

Sighing, Tony quietly extricated himself from the bed sheets, pausing to make sure he had not woken his super soldier boyfriend. Satisfied, Tony padded across the bedroom, snagging a pair of track pants on the way. If he couldn’t sleep, he’d work. At least then he’d be doing something useful.

JARVIS raised and dimmed the lights as Tony made his way through the penthouse of Avengers’ Tower. Once, this had been his private domain, but now the apartment was filled with _Steve_. The walls were covered in photos of long lost friends, sketches of people and places and the shelves covered in _stuff_. Steve stuff. Tony had no idea what half of it was, but it was so clearly different from the knickknacks the interior designer had used to fill the room. What was once a glorified showroom, was now a welcoming and lived in space.

Smiling at the thought, Tony wandered to the elevator and stepped inside when the doors opened for him.

“Workshop sir?” JARVIS’ quiet and clear voice filled the small room as the words flashed across the unobtrusive panels that ran around the top of every Avenger related floor in the Tower. Once Tony had realised that Clint was deaf, the first thing he had done was ensure that the man had the best assistive technology available. And when that tech sucked, Tony made new things. Clint had thanked him for the new hearing aids but had admitted that he hated being reliant on them, especially in an emergency. So, Tony had added a flashing light (red, not blue, never blue) to every room to go with the alarms (different patterns for different things, Clint and JARVIS had hashed it out together). LCD banners 6 inches high ran around the walls so Clint could read what JARVIS was saying, as well as a one of a kind smart watch. It allowed JARVIS and Clint to communicate easily, as well as relaying anything said over comms during fights. The watch also had the bonus of vibrating with the alarms, or when someone walked up behind Clint when he was in the tower. For the first time in a long time, Clint didn’t feel the need to wear his hearing aids constantly and finally started to get sleep in more than 2 hourly increments.

Steve had glowed with pride when he realised what Tony had done for Clint.

“Sir?”

JARVIS cut through Tony’s exhausted thoughts, “Yeah, sorry J, workshop it is.”

***

When Steve decided to drag Tony out of the workshop, it was 7pm.

“Babe, c’mon. I know you have crucial things to be working on, but I know for a fact that the only source of nutrition down here are things that Dum-E has tried to cook. So unless you have developed a sudden fondness for pancakes with motor oil syrup, you haven’t eaten all day. Come up and have dinner with the team.”

Steve was perched on the edge of Tony’s work bench watching as his boyfriend flitted around the workshop. He reached out and snagged Tony by the arm as he passed him next and pulled the smaller man into the v of his thighs.

“Tony, come on. I think you need a break.” Steve raised a hand and brushed the hair back from Tony’s face and smiled gently at the way he leant into Steve’s fingers. Tony would never admit it, but he needed touch in the same way that most people needed air.

Tony sighed, “I just need to finish this.” He gestured vaguely over his shoulder, and Steve caught the hand in his own. Steve noticed that the tanned fingers were trembling.

“No love. You need to sit down, and you need to ingest something that isn’t coffee. I don’t know how many times we need to go over this, but coffee is not one of the main food groups.”

Tony grumbled, “I’m the one who is technically a doctor, I think I’d know if the coffee wasn’t a food group.”

Steve smiled and pressed a kiss against his boyfriend’s forehead, “Love, I think we both know you are not that kind of doctor. If I need help building a death ray, then you are my guy. But if I want medical advice, you are close to the last person I would go to.”

Tony frowned, “Rude! You are legally required trust me!”

Steve hopped off the bench and pulled Tony towards the exit, “Only when you actually know what you are talking about. Now come on. Bruce made korma.”

Tony sighed, “Well if there is korma….”

Steve rolled his eyes and led his over tired boyfriend towards the kitchen.

As they ate, Steve mulled over what JARVIS had said to him earlier in the day.

***

Steve was still in bed, granted, it was only 6 am, well before _most_ people _(*cough* Clint *cough*)_ were up. But it wasn’t the time that had Steve sitting up in bed staring around in confusion. Tony was gone. Usually, at 6 am, Tony was mumbling angrily about certain people and their morning running habits, but today his side of the bed was empty. Steve felt the sheets, empty and cold.

It wouldn’t be the first time Tony had been called away early for SI related things, but usually there was a note. “JARVIS? Where is Tony?”

“Sir is in the workshop, Captain.”

That would explain it. Steve smiled to himself as he thought about Tony getting some genius idea and legging it down to the shop to get it down on paper before he forgot.

“Captain, if I may be bold…”

JARVIS paused, apparently waiting for permission to continue, Steve nodded, knowing that the AI would see and respond.

“Sir has been working for the past 4 hours. He seems quite safe and is certainly being productive, but I thought you should know that Sir has not slept.”

Steve’s brow furrowed, “Do you think I should go down to him?”

JARVIS paused, “No, I don’t think intervention is required at this time. Sir is operating within normal parameters.” Steve smiled at the AI’s phrasing as the crisp British voice continued, “Although, I thought it wise to inform you that Sir has not been sleeping well for the last two weeks. He is averaging 2.6 hours per night.”

The concern for his creator was so clearly evident in the AI’s voice that Steve took a moment to marvel at the amazing piece of technology. JARVIS was less like a computer programme and far, far more like a person. And that person cared deeply for his master.

“Thank you for letting me know JARVIS. I’ll let him work for now, but please let me know if Tony needs me.”

“I most certainly will Captain. Thank you.”

It had been hours later when Steve finally decided to drag Tony away from the lab, regardless of the progress he was making. Sure, his idiot had gone on longer working stints, but it didn't mean he should.

Steve sat across from Tony at dinner. Surrounded by the team (or most of, Thor was off being Asgardian royalty) the meal was shared in comfort and playful banter. It was easy to see how tired Tony was. He missed three openings in a row for innuendos that Clint set up for him, and he ate as if each spoonful of korma weighed a tonne. As the team finished and made a bee-line for the living room and Mario Kart, Steve grabbed Tony and held him back.

“Babe, you ok?” Steve studied Tony’s face and saw the smaller man quite clearly shove whatever he was feeling down and plaster an eerily convincing smile on top.

“Yeah of course! Long day in the lab, yeah, but I checked so many things off my list. Pep is going to have nothing to nag me about for _weeks_. Dinner was amazing, and now I am going to watch Barnes get his ass handed to him by Nat and we both know it is going to end in an excellent sparring match that I am quite literally dying to see. It’s gonna be awesome, but if we don’t hurry, we are going to miss the trash talk. And yeah, half of it is in Russian, but it will give us a chance to test out the new translator software I installed today. Anything that is said in the common floors will be translated into English and displayed by JARVIS on Clint’s panel things. It’s gonna be cool. I mean we have to elect to turn it on, I know you lot love to use Russian, French and German to talk behind each other’s backs, but if it works then, I can develop it further and then SI can market it. Imagine how—“

Tony stopped suddenly, Steve had placed his hands on his partner’s shoulders, squeezing gently, and was staring into his eyes, one eyebrow raised.

“Tony? Breathe.”

Steve paired this with taking several deep, exaggerated breaths, indicating that Tony should follow suit.

Tony just rolled his eyes and shrugged off his boyfriend’s hands. “I’m breathing, I’m breathing…”

Steve narrowed his eyes, “Why are you going a mile a minute?”

Tony’s eyes turned joking, “I’m not, you’re just getting slow in your old age.” And with that, he turned and fled for the last remaining spot on the couch. Steve cracked a smile and raced after him. Picking the smaller man up on the way and throwing him over his shoulder in a fireman carry.

“I’ll show you old..”

Steve plonked himself down on the couch and pulled Tony into his lap. Squirming off, Tony poked out his tongue and went and settled into a bean bag.

Tony waited until Steve’s attention was totally captivated by the brewing fight between the two ex-Russian spies before letting his face drop. He snuggled further into the bean bag and allowed himself to sink into the lassitude that had been brewing all week. Dinner had burnt up the last shred of energy for the day. Tony wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to move even if the Tower caught fire and the bean bag turned out to be filled with scorpions. At his point, it might be easier to surrender to death by flaming arachnids than pull himself up to the level of playful energy his teammates were exuding.

Tony wasn’t new to this. He knew this would pass eventually. He just had to ride it out.

Steeling himself with that thought, Tony finally allowed sleep to drag him under.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a description of the headspace and actions leading up to an incident of self-harm. The lead up to the act is described, but the act itself is not because I think we all know where it is going and no one needs a play by play.  
> If you wish to skip this, then when you get to the bold stars, stop reading and go to the next chapter. It's the last few paragraphs so you won't be missing anything at the end here.

Tony sighed as the repulsor beam hit the Doombot square in the chest, blowing a 2ft hole in the android’s chest. The bot crumpled to the ground and the head detached and scuttled over the fallen body. Tony stood and stared at it for a moment, watching it creep closer to him, weird pincer arm things flashing threateningly. The right arm of the suit raised without Tony’s command and the head ceased to exist. Blinking, Tony switched to private comms.

“JARVIS, what the hell?! Since when do you get to make the suit do things during battle?” Shaken out of his momentary stupor by JARVIS’ action, Tony raced off to take out two more of the blasted Doombots that were trying their best to turn Time’s Square into their little play yard.

The AI butler sounded irritated, “Since you seemed unlikely to take the initiative. Sir.”

Tony took to the air and swooped through the skies, checking on the position of the team. With Thor off-planet, Iron Man was the only full-time Avenger with flight capabilities.

JARVIS continued, “Sir, I am required to take all reasonable and practical measures to protect you. Even if those measures may conflict with your desires. Unless expressly prohibited of course.”

“Of course…” Tony replied, rolling his eyes. JARVIS was such a worry wort. How did that end up programmed into him..?

“J, I am perfectly capable of taking down a Doombot head without your interference.”

“I am aware of this Sir. However your reaction times have slowed noticeably in the last two weeks, and you have made several seemingly intentional actions that place yourself at unnecessary levels of risk.”

“I am an Avenger JARVIS, everything about this is risky.”

“Indeed Sir,” JARVIS replied, “However you are dramatically increasing the inherent risk through delayed, or inaction.”

Mouth twitching, Tony didn’t respond. _Now is so not the time for this conversation…_

Switching back to primary comms, Tony was greeted by the brusque tones of Captain America, “Iron Man, we have spoken about this on several missions. It is inappropriate and dangerous to mute the main comm line during a mission.”

Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath; he really did not have the energy for this today. “Sorry, Capsicle had to have a private chat with JARVIS. I was still monitoring the conversation; I would have known if anyone needed back up.”

Tony could picture the look on Cap’s face, thin lips, furrowed brow and 12 thousand tonnes of righteous disapproval. “Be that as it may Iron Man, we did not know if _you_ needed assistance. You are not the only one out here. Try to remember that.”

As Tony was coming to term with that statement, Clint, tactful as ever, chimed in. “Oooooh, Lover’s spat!”

Four exhausted voices replied at once, “shut up Hawkeye.”

***

The fight was over, which means it was time to start the cleanup. And then the debriefing, and then the paperwork. And of course, for Stark, then came the bill.

Not that he minded really, it was just another thing to make Tony an indispensable asset to the team, but it did begin to grate after awhile. No one else had to deal with the very public fallout from missions gone awry. No one else had hundreds of thousands of people counting on him to keep a company afloat.

Tony was circling Time’s Square slowly, surveying the damage and mentally prioritising the clean-up. Some things would go a lot faster with some super strength to help grease the wheels, but a lot of it could be dealt with by SHEILD’s construction arm. Thankfully, civilian injuries were low, and as far as he knew, there were no casualties.

Always a bonus.

Not being able to put it off for any longer, Tony landed the suit and began to make his way over to the rest of the team who were standing in a loose circle. As he walked, Tony had the strange feeling that the suit was heavier than usual. Was it always this hard to move his feet?

“JARVIS, run diagnostics on the suit. Did we take any damage?”

There was a brief pause and then, “The suit appears to be functioning optimally. No major damage was taken, and I cannot find any faults. Did you have a particular system you wished me to investigate further?”

Tony frowned, JARVIS rarely missed anything, but if something was subtly wrong…

“Yeah, could you check the hydraulics? The joints feel, heavier?”

Another pause, “I detect no problems, Sir. May I be as bold as to suggest that perhaps you are fatigued? You are exerting less pressure on the sensors than is normal.”

“I think I'd know if I was simply tired J. It’s fine, I’ll check it myself when we get back to the tower.” Tony was irritated. He was an adult, superhero man. He was perfectly capable of knowing if a _nap_ was all that was needed.

JARVIS did not reply, but if the AI took the liberty of assisting with the manipulation of the suit, no one was any the wiser.

***

The debrief was, to no one’s surprise, a dreadful affair. They always were to be honest. There is nothing Tony loved more than having all of his mistakes and missteps laid out and scrutinised in front of an audience.

It had been bad before Steve and he had started dating, but now it was almost unbearable.

Steve, no, that wasn’t it, _Captain America_ , always followed the same template for these blasted things.

  1. Congratulate them all for the lack of casualties
  2. Remind them that in order to improve team cohesion, it was important to talk about what went wrong and to air any grievances
  3. Launch into a very clinical and cold examination of each moment, often, complete with video play back
  4. Remind the team they could always do better



It was tiring and it was predictable, but it always managed to hurt.

For some reason known only to himself, the Captain always left Tony to last. Rationally, Stark knew that it was probably because he didn’t like criticising his boyfriend any more than Tony liked being criticised, but emotionally, his head just told him it was because you saved the biggest fuck up till last.

The wait to hear his sins lain bare left him twitchy and wishing for a way to make it _right_. To pay penance for it and get rid of the feeling building in his chest. Tony had no idea what that feeling way (the man may be a genius, but he was emotionally stunted at _best_ ) but he _did_ know how to make it go away. Either keep his mind busy enough that it moved on from ruminating on his many faults, or experience a feeling strong enough to drown it out.

Work was good, but if Tony waited too long to get to the workshop, then he couldn’t focus on work long enough to lose himself in the numbers and machinery. Drinking worked real well and had been the go to since he realised that if you gave someone enough money, you could basically anything even if you were a closely monitored 13 year old. Steve had nixed that once they started ‘going together’ as the relic of a man so tactfully put it.

Once the Avengers became a fulltime part of Tony’s life, even he had to admit that he had to dial back the drinking. The first time a call to Assemble came through when he was hungover (possibly still drunk, but hey, who’s counting?) Tony realised exactly how much danger his drinking was putting the general population in. If he decided to that death by scotch was his way to go, then that was Tony’s decision, but he wouldn’t allow his habits to add more deaths to his total.

The new way of coping was, in Tony’s opinion, way more pathetic, but also far cleaner. It had fewer long term effects and fewer, _far fewer,_ short term effects.

And it worked. So who was he to question it?

Tony shook himself slightly and made a concerted effort to pay attention to Cap’s dressing down of the team. He was up to listing the many, many ways Clint could have improved today, to which Clint simply shrugged, smirked and shot a Bucky a smug look.

Steve may not be aware, but there was a quiet competition running between the former Hydra assassin and the sharpshooter. Whoever had the most individual infractions listed during debriefings each month got to plan the next major prank. Barnes won last month, and suddenly every single item of the good Captain Roger’s clothing had been altered to include a large My Little Pony logo. Somehow, JARVIS had been sweet talked into deleting the surveillance footage for the night and both Clint and Bucky were supposedly in South America on a SHEILD mission. Tony had to admit, he had been more than a little impressed.

But Steve was finishing with Clint, and was turning towards Tony.

Tony’s heart stopped, his hands went cold and his stomach vacated the room.

“And finally, Iron Man. We have discussed this on more than one occasion and frankly I expected better from you. You must be aware by now that wireless communication between members of the team is an essential part of the way we operate. When you refuse to allow us the ability to communicate with you, you effectively blind the team from all aerial attacks.”

Steve paused as Clint made an indignant noise.

“Hawkeye, your feedback is useful, but you cannot cover more than one section of the air as your point of view is limited by your mobility. Iron Man is able to quickly move around the field and assess the battle from many different angles.” Steve turned back to Tony, his eyes were cold, “Turning off your comms without notice not only cuts off aerial surveillance, but it also prevents the team form ascertaining your wellbeing. The first thought when a comm line goes dead is that a member of the team is in peril. Black Widow left her quadrant to get eyes on you. She left a corner of the formation open. Her actions are her own, but had you kept your comm line open, she may not have felt the need to take them.”

Tony had his head ducked. Normally, he would be returning Steve’s glare with a set jaw and fixed eyes, but Tony just didn’t have it in him today.

Steve was pushing on with his verbal dissection of Tony’s actions, but Tony wasn’t listening. All he could hear was the roaring in his ears, and the dull pounding of his heart.

_Fucked up. Fucked up. Put Nat in danger. Selfish. Selfish piece of crap.._

“—ron Man, _Tony!_ ”

Tony’s head snapped up and met Steve’s eyes. They were narrowed.

 _Concern_ , _he looks concerned…_

“Are you listening?”

Tony took a deep breath and flashed a bright smile, “Yep. Sorry. Don’t mute the comms, makes you worry, puts people in danger, yadda yadda yadda… I won’t do it again.” He paused, “I really didn’t mean to be an ass, I just needed to have a word with JARVIS.”

Tony, focused on Steve, missed the way Natasha’s eyes flicked to him and appraised the brunette. Her assassin senses were tingling…

Steve nodded once, “Thank you for your apology, please make sure you think next time.”

Tony nodded and returned his eyes to his lap. He was itching to get back to the lab. To be alone so he could try to tease apart the hot knot of emotion ( _Guilt? Shame? How can I be so smart and not be able to identify feelings…?)_ that was sitting in his chest. Standing with the rest of the team, Tony went to make for the exit, only to be stopped by a hand on his elbow.

Following the hand up the arm and to it’s owner, Tony met the eyes of Natasha Romanoff. Her eyes were appraising him, making him feel edgy and naked.

“Can I help you?”

Natasha frowned, “Something is not right with you.”

Tony hated how she did this. Nat never answered a question, instead replying with a mostly unrelated statement that assumed a lot of things.

“Well, I’m tired and sweaty and covered in dirt when I should be showered and surrounded by my bots in my own home for starters…”

Natasha appraised him further, “I saw you you know?”

Tony did _not_ want to deal with this cryptic clue guessing game.

“What Nat? Spit it out. I’m tired and I want to go home.”

“I saw you with the Doombot. It started to come at you and you just stared at it. And your reaction times have been off. No one else has noticed, but something is not right.”

Tony pulled his elbow out of her grip and threw his hands in the air. “Maybe I’m tired and overworked and maybe I don’t need a nanny!”

Natasha folder her arms and watched as Tony turned on his heel and stalked off. She was patient. She would wait and pounce later. Any perhaps speak to JARVIS. If something was up with Stark, the AI would know. That put together with Tony’s need for a mid-battle private chat with JARVIS made her suspicious.

And Nat didn’t get suspicious over nothing.

*****************************************

By the time Tony made it back to the workshop he was well and truly worked up. The tight knot in his chest was beginning to overwhelm him and for some god-awful reason it made him feel like curling into a ball and crying. He hated this. Stark men don’t cry, and they sure as hell don’t curl up in the foetal positon and rock back and forth for awhile.

Stalking across the workshop floor, Tony shed his under suit and pulled off his shirt.

“JARVIS, Blackout Protocol, 75 minutes.”

In response, JARVIS powered down the surveillance cameras and darkened the glass windows. When he set up the protocol intitially, there was no mandatory time period on the Black Out Protocol that prevented JARVIS from visually monitoring the workshop as well as preventing anyone from entering or leaving, regardless of priority of access.

And then Obadiah Stane had happened and Tony realised that there may be some serious flaws in that plan. So now there was a mandatory time limit. JARVIS would resume monitoring in 75 mins time and would be able to alert the usual people if something went wrong.

Once he was happy that he was truly alone, Tony opened the locked draw of his desk and pulled out one of many old-fashioned metal pencil tins. Most contained with pencils and pens (oddly enough) or his favourite small tools, but this one contained something a little different. It contained the various medical grade sharps that Tony had swiped from Bruce and SHEILD medical over the last few months.

Tony was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot. Each needle and scalpel was sealed and sterile. They were only used once, and then discarded. Pain and blood were desirable, infection was not.

Picking a 15-blade off the top of the pile, the engineer split the package open and carefully pulled the sharp out. Folding the foil packet to make a handle he took a deep breath and pressed the blade to his skin.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay in updates, I'm on my final rotations for uni and life has been crazy busy! So, as an apology, have 2 or maybe even three chapters in one hit.
> 
> So there is a content warning for the end of this chapter, things are coming to a head and so we are getting angstier and shitter. More self harm at the end, but again, not graphic. You know it is happening, or that it is about to happen but we fade to black, bc again, you don't need to read that and I don't need to write it.

JARVIS was counting down the last remaining minutes of the blackout period when Steve made his was down to the lab. The tinting on the windows lifted with just enough time for Tony to finish slipping on his Black Sabbath shirt, covering the fresh injuries around the arc reactor. He had figured that his chest was already covered in scars and there would be no harm in adding a few more. Tony turned around to see his boyfriend walk through the newly unlocked door.

Steve smiled at Tony, it was hesitant and subdued, but it was a smile. He walked over to Tony and wrapped his arms around the shorter man’s waist.

“Hey babe, I’m so sorry about the debriefing. I hate having to pick on you over things, but I can’t treat you any differently just because we are dating…” Steve tucked Tony under his chin and hugged him close, “I don’t want anyone to accuse me of going soft on you, and if it were Clint or Nat, I’d do the same. You know that right?’

Tony sighed and leaned into Steve, “Yeah I know. It’s not your fault, you’re just doing your job..” He took a step backward and slid out of Steve’s embrace, but the supersoldier captured his hands and walked him over to the couch. Tony allowed himself to be pulled down and so that he was curled up on his side, head in his boyfriend’s lap.

“You’ve been looking so tired lately love, JARVIS says you haven’t been sleeping. Is there anything going on?” Steve was running his fingers through Tony’s hair, scraping his nails along his scalp.

Tony sighed again and nuzzled into the probing fingers, the gentle friction was like a balm on his raw nerves. “I’m fine, just feeling a little… Off..’

Steve hummed in response and used his free hand to start rubbing circles into the base of Tony’s neck. “Well, how about you lie in my lap for a little while and close your eyes, and I’ll have JARVIS catch me up on that science show you were making me watch.” Steve took the gentle nodding of the head under his hands as agreement and motioned for JARVIS to lower the TV screen opposite the couch. Before the opening credits of ‘Bill Nye Saves the World’ had finished playing, Tony was breathing deeply, and his face was finally relaxed.

Steve looked down from the screen and pushed Tony’s hair back from his face and took in the dark circles under his eyes.

Steve may not know what is going on with Tony, hell,  _Tony_  doesn’t know what is going on with Tony, but at that moment, Captain America made a silent promise to do everything he could to make sure Anthony Stark was ok.

Natasha slipped down and into Tony’s lab sometime later to find the resident genius asleep with his head pillowed on a supersoldier thigh. “How’s he looking?”

Steve started slightly at the sound, he had been entranced by the man in the bowtie extracting goddamn DNA from a strawberry, and turned and smiled at Nat. It was a testament to how tired Tony must have been that he hadn’t even shifted in his sleep.

“You know, I’m not sure…” Nat took a careful seat on Steve’s other side and prompted him to continue. “He says he’s fine, but that he just feels ‘off.' I have no idea what that means.”

Nat tilted her head and shrugged slightly, “It could mean a lot of things. He’s always been erratic at best, but he just doesn’t seem to be handling the work all day, coffee all night thing as well as he usually does.”

Steve nodded, “JARVIS said he hasn’t been sleeping much recently. Apparently, he lies in bed until I fall asleep and then just comes down here and works until I come down to bring him food.”

Nat looked up at the screen that was still playing the science show, “There is something else too…”

Steve looked at the former Russian spy and raised an eyebrow, “What?”

Nat bit her lip in an uncharacteristic display of indecision, “Something I saw during the battle today, Tony just looked… Well, ‘off’ probably  _is_  the best way to describe it. His reactions were slow, the suit moved awkwardly, and there was more than one moment where he turned to face something coming at him, and Tony just stood there. I know it isn’t much, but I have a feeling that all is not well inside our genius’s head.”

Steve looked down at the head in question and stroked the man’s forehead in with far more tenderness than would be expected from someone so strong.

“You know he won’t talk to us until he’s ready.”

“I know,” Natasha stood gracefully and put a hand on Steve’s shoulder, “just don’t let him do anything stupid between now and then.” She placed a soft kiss on Steve’s cheek and swept out of the room without a backward glance.

Steve took another quick look around the room and sighed, “Hey JARVIS?”

“Yes, Steve?”

“Save where I’m up to for me? I think it’s time for me to take Tony to bed.”

“I think that is wise sir.”

As the screen retracted into the ceiling, Steve gently gathered his boyfriend into his arms and carried him to bed.

***

Steve may have intended to keep a close eye on his partner, but things don’t always go to plan. Between SHEILD missions, Stark Industries and calls to Assemble, the couple actually didn’t spend all that much time together. And honestly, Tony was grateful.

It was hard enough to smile for the press and the board, he didn’t think he could manage it for the team as well. When he DID catch up with the other Avengers, it was to defeat the big baddie of the week, and Tony was careful to keep his mask carefully in place. A lot of things could be hidden under a suit of metal, and a general apathy for life was one of them.

If Tony was being honest with himself (and to be fair, he rarely was) everything was getting harder. JARVIS had started taking over more and more during missions, hitting targets before Tony even noticed them. It wasn’t that he was intentionally taking risks, Tony just wasn’t processing things fast enough to react. The worst of it came when the team had been called to assist in Atlanta when some idiot with a tenuous grasp on magic had caused a horde of sea life to grow to 300x their normal size and escape the Atlanta aquarium.

It was a pretty straightforward op. The kid hadn’t meant any harm, just some teen who had unexpectedly come into some powers while fantasizing about killer sea life on a boring school excursion, and the aquatic lifeforms weren’t even particularly aggressive. There were just a lot of them and more and more were popping up every minute.

It should have been a cakewalk, but Tony’s head was not in the game.

His reaction time was off, the suit didn’t seem to be responding to him, and as a result Tony was having trouble flying in a straight line, let alone dodging octopus tentacles and crab claws, firing off shots and watching for falling Clints all at the same time. His brain wasn’t working fast enough to calculate angles and trajectories and half of his shots missed their mark.

It was a testament to how out of it Tony felt that his only reaction to being knocked clean out of the sky by an airborne squid was “…Huh.”

JARVIS was shouting something at him as he plummeted towards the ground, but the engineer just stared at the rapidly approaching pavement. The rest of the team was screaming over the com line, but Tony didn’t even notice.

One minute the pavement was meters away and the next Tony was hovering inches above the ground. He shook his head and made a conscious effort to tune back in and make sense of his surroundings. JARVIS had muted the rest of the team and was talking to him in a slow and steady stream.

Pulling himself back into the here and now was a Herculean effort, but the fight was still going, and Tony motioned for the repulsors to fire and take him back into the thick of the battle.

The suit didn’t lift an inch.

“JARVIS, what’s going on with the suit? Did we take damage?”

JARVIS hesitated before replying, “No sir, the suit is fully functional.”

Tony frowned, “Then why are we not moving?”

“Because I have deemed it unsafe to allow you to do so sir. I believe that in your current state, enabling you to return to the fight would be detrimental to your wellbeing.”

“…the fuck J? Since when is that a thing?”

“It has always been “a Thing” sir, it is just rarely a protocol I am required to utilize.”

Tony huffed, “Well un-utilise it then. My team needs me.”

“With all due respect sir, they do not at the moment. The battle is all but over, and I have told them that the repulsors have been damaged and are not currently operational. You will find them quite unusable for the next 24 hours.”

Tony stared in shock, his gaze directed at some nondescript piece of pavement, “What am I meant to do then?”

JARVIS answered softly, “Go back in the quinjet with the rest of the team and then look after yourself. I am worried about you sir.”

“J, I’m fine. I appreciate the concern, but I’ve got this under control.” Tony walked slowly over to the curb and sat himself down. Even with the suit holding him up, the man was tired, and there was no way he could make it back to the others without flight capabilities.

“Sir I do not think that is an accurate assessment of the situation. I have been monitoring you over the last month, and according to my research you are currently affected by severe depression, with a score of 23/27 on the PHQ-9 which is a suitable screening test as set forth by the DSM-IV.”

In spite of himself, Tony smiled at his creation’s concern, “J you know the DSM-IV is outdated now, I’m all about the DSM-V.”

“I doubt the new edition invalidates my findings, sir.”

Tony may have basically nothing in the way of self-esteem, but even he had to admit that JARVIS was a hell of an invention. If he achieved nothing else in his life, at the very least, he had beaten the Turing test, which in all fairness, is a lifetime’s worth of work in itself.

It wasn’t long before the other Avengers made their way over to Iron Man, who was basically sitting in a gutter. As they walked towards him, Tony gave them all an once over, they were covered in squid ink, but no one was moving in a way the hinted at a serious injury. Cap was in the lead, and his cowl was down. Tony could see the golden strands of hair that were stuck to Steve’s forehead with sweat and grime and the fine red marks around his eyes and mouth that formed where the cowl ended. His eyes were fixed on the Tony’s (well, where they were under the Iron Man mask) and his brow was creased with obvious concern. Natasha looked equally as focussed, but was leaning slightly closed to suspicious.

Bucky and Clint were bringing up the rear and paid Tony no attention whatsoever. They were laughing and playfully shoving each other. Under the mask, Tony cracked a smile when Bucky pushed Clint forward, causing him to trip over the uneven pavement and land face first in a puddle of fish blood. Bucky doubled over in laughter, and Natasha turned around and threw the two men a disapproving look.

Steve crouched down in front of his boyfriend, “JARVIS said you are having trouble with the suit? Is everything ok?”

Tony took a deep breath, gathered his wits and answered, “Yeah, somethings up with the repulsors, they aren’t firing.” His voice came out a little garbled and Tony thanked JARVIS silently for the AIs insight. “I also appear to be having some comm issues.”

Steve nodded slowly, “I figured something must be up with them. You dropped out about halfway through the fight… You aren’t injured?”

Tony shook his head slowly, “No, it’s some sort of equipment failure. The suit is fucking hard to move without all the systems working, so I figured I’d be better off just sitting this one out until someone could give me a hand.”

Steve smiled, “As long as you are ok.” The supersoldier stood up and held out his hand in a clear invitation.

Tony grasped it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. “Where’s String Bean?”

It was Natasha who answered, “Bruce is already back in the jet. He de-hulked pretty quickly today, and so he’s already wrapped up and asleep on his cot.”

As it became apparent that Tony was struggling a lot under the weight of the suit, Steve motioned for Bucky to take Tony’s other side and the two supersoldiers half carried him to the waiting jet. The rest of the Avengers got settled in their various seats, and Steve helped Tony to the back of the jet. He pulled him to the side where some cargo offered a little privacy before releasing the catch on the faceplate.

“You sure you are ok love?”

Tony smiled as convincingly as possible, “Yeah, just irritated that the suit malfunctioned. Things I build shouldn’t stop working without permission.”

If he raised his voice just enough for JARVIS to hear, well that would be a total coincidence.

Steve narrowed his eyes, “If you’re sure that’s it…”

“I’m sure, now help me peel out of this hunk of junk?”

The trip back to the Tower was uneventful. Tony fell asleep leaning against Bruce’s cot, Nat read over some paperwork for Phil, and Bucky and Clint bickered over who had the best aim when it came to ranged weaponry. Steve just sat in his chair and watched the man he loved catch up on sleep.

By the time Clint landed the jet, night had well and truly fallen, and the team walked through the doors and into a wall of mouth-watering pizza smell.

Clint dropped his bow by the door, “JARVIS, did you order pizza to be here waiting when we landed?”

“I may have taken that liberty, yes. I had assumed you would be hungry and tired by the time you returned.”

Clint grinned at the roof, “Man, I fucking love you. You know that right?”

“You have expressed such a sentiment before, yes,” JARVIS replied sounding faintly amused.

Clint and Bucky stalked towards the mountain of pizza boxes and began sorting them into types. Nat joined them, snagging a random box off the top of the pile and folding herself neatly onto her favorite seat.

“Bruce! This one is vegan and sad looking, it must be yours!” Bucky was waving a box vaguely in Bruce’s direction with one hand while using the metal one to shove his BBQ chicken pizza into his mouth. Bruce smiled and took the box, taking his usual seat on the couch.

Steve followed him in and grabbed a box of his own. Looking up, he noticed Tony standing against the door and looking at them all. “You coming babe? It’s probably your money that paid for the food, you should at least eat some of it.”

“I’m not really hungry, I just thought I’d head down to the lab and make a start on fixing the suit.”

Steve was shaking his head before Tony had even finished speaking, “Nope, eat first, fix after. The suit is kinda not working at the moment right?” Tony inclined his head slightly, “So eat and then Buck and I can carry it down for you after. It’s not like you are going to be able to move it on your own right now.”

Tony frowned, he knew that JARVIS would move the suit for him with ease, but that would blow the whole lie wide open. Faced with no other choice, he steeled himself and grabbed a box and attempted to make normal looking conversation with his teammates.

By the time most of the pizza had been demolished, Clint was laying on the floor, clutching his belly and groaning. “I ate way too much. Buck, I think I’m dying.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and jabbed Clint hard in the ribs, “You’re not dying, you just need to digest that inhuman amount of food you just ate. Besides, you can’t die, we need you on the team.”

Clint sat up, “True. I am an indispensable asset here. Especially when Thor is back on Asgard and Tony’s stuff stops working suddenly.”

Tony concentrated on taking small bites of his pizza, chewing and swallowing.

Clint continued, “ _Somebody_  has to be around to pick up the slack. I mean, Tony, you’ve been super absent around the tower lately, and now you’re not even helping when we Assemble! What would happen is one of us fell off a building? Who would catch them?!”

Clint was laughing, totally oblivious to the tension that had mounted in the room.

Steve reached out to Tony as Tony put his pizza down, “Excuse me, I need to fix my suit.”

Before Steve could grab his hand, Tony was up and out of the room, hightailing it to the lab.

With the door locked behind him, Tony slid to the floor.

“JARVIS, lock the lab down, especially the vents. I need some time alone.”

“Sir, I do not think-“

“I said LOCK IT DOWN. I don’t particularly care what you think right now.”

JARVIS hesitated before replying, “Certainly sir.”

***

Back in the living room, you could hear a pin drop. Everyone was shooting daggers at Clint. He finally threw his hands in the air, “What?! What did I do this time?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, “C’mon pal, even I could tell something was up with Stark and I’m a formally emotionless and brainwashed spy.”

“Oh come on, he’s just sulking because the suit malfunctioned.”

It was Bruce who replied this time, “Even if that was it, which for the record, no one here thinks it is, did you really have to poke the sore spot? You’ve been part of this team long enough now to know that failing the team is one of Tony’s panic buttons.”

Clint let his head drop forward, “Aw crap. Didn’t think of it from that point…”

Nat sighed, “That’s because you rarely think before you speak.” She sighed heavily and looked at the ceiling, “JARVIS, I’m assuming Tony has locked himself in the lab?”

“He has, Ms. Romonov.”

Nat threw another glare at Clint, “When does the lockout period end this time?”

JARVIS hesitated, “I am afraid I am unable to answer that.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, “Has Tony banned you from providing us with that information or do you not know when he intends to end the lockout.”

“I have not been given a time for the end of the lockout Dr. Banner.”

The room froze. “Is Tony alright J?” Steve asked slowly.

“I am unable to ascertain Sir’s status currently as he has blocked me from monitoring the lab at the present time.”

Steve was out of his seat before JARVIS had finished his sentence.

***

By the time Tony registered the dull banging on the door to the lab, he was already three-fifths of the way through a bottle of scotch. It was incredible how quickly you could get through a nice bottle if you really put your mind to it and right now Tony was trying very hard not to think about much of anything.

He was especially not thinking about the way he was continually failing the team and the SI stockholders and staff by being an absolute waste of space.

Wasn’t thinking about that at all.

Sure, it had been JARVIS that had pulled him out of the fight today, but it was Tony’s own fault that he needed to be pulled out in the first place. If he were just a little more motivated, if he tried just a little harder, then he would have been fine.

But no, he let himself fail and fall and now other people would pay for it.

Pushing himself up off the ground slowly, Tony made his way to his desk, almost absent-mindedly snagging his pencil tin and then collapsing on the futon.

The bots were charging, JARVIS had been muted, and Tony had manually covered the surveillance cameras. For the first time in a long time, Tony was actually alone.

Which was fitting, because it’s not like he deserved the company of others and the comfort that company would bring.

Tony deserved to feel this wretched. He deserved everything that was coming his way. Once the team realized exactly how unreliable he was, they would have him step down from the full-time roster. The SI board would oust him in a heartbeat if Pepper let them, and she would, eventually, if he stopped answering her calls.

She was already mad at him nearly all the time, he was never on time, none of his paperwork got done, he hated board meetings. The only thing Tony really had going for him was the designs he pumped out. And there were enough of those sitting in the wings waiting to go to keep investors happy for quite some time. He didn’t need to be on the board to design.

Tony let the feeling of total failure seep into his bones while he stripped off his shirt and began to add to the scars already surrounding the reactor.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter has blood in it at the end. I mean, honestly if you were looking to read something without self harm in it, then this really isn't the fic for you...  
> Also accidental attempt on own life? Not really like "I want to die, I shall make that happen" but more of a "I am making poor choices, I am making REALLY poor choices bc I feel like total shit, oh crap I didn't mean to do that"?  
> Idk... Comment if you want more specific details,...?

Steve had shouted and argued and pleaded with JARVIS until Bucky had grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the door. The door that was robust enough to withstand the Hulk and had been locked manually and from the inside. It wasn’t that JARVIS wasn’t sympathetic, but there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t operate a lock that wasn’t linked to his systems, and the Steve knew that. It didn’t do anything to soothe the panic tinged desperation racing through his veins.

There was nothing he could do but wait.

Wait and sit with the knowledge that Tony could be utterly destroying himself behind the locked door.

Clint had basically shut down, gripped by his own shame spiral. Bucky deposited Steve onto the couch, leaving him to Nat and Bruce and then turned to the archer.

Bucky bit his lip and crouched down in front of Clint, “Hey. Hey, look at me.”

Holding one of Clint’s hands in his metal one, he used his other to gently lift Clint’s chin to meet his eyes. Bucky smiled gently, “Hey, c’mon, let’s go for a walk.”

Clint let Bucky pull him off the couch and lead him out of the common room and into the elevator.

Bucky kept Clint’s hand securely in his own, rubbing small circles into the flesh of his thumb while Clint’s mind raced. If he hadn’t opened his big mouth and fucked everything up...

The elevator doors opened, and Bucky led the other man out and into the library. It had been one of Bucky’s favorite places to hide when he was overwhelmed by everything while overcoming the conditioning Hydra had left him with. The room was furnished in warm tones, and everything about it screamed comfort and safety. The room was rarely used, it was out of the way, and it was known that Bucky came here when he needed to be alone.

His pillow and blanket nest was still set up in front of the fireplace, and he pulled Clint down into the middle of it. The fire was already crackling away (courtesy of JARVIS), and Bucky wrapped the shorter man up tightly in his arms.

“Clint, this isn’t your fault.”

Clint shook his head, “I didn’t think… I didn’t think…”

Bucky shook his head, “No, you didn’t, but Stark has his own things going on. You didn’t do anything that deserved this level of reaction. You didn’t know something was up with him. Tony’s issues are not your fault.”

“I should have though. Steve and Nat knew. You knew, Bruce knew. Everyone had noticed something was up and I didn’t, and I went and fucked it all up, and now Tony has locked himself away, and Steve is freaking the fuck out and…”

Bucky cut him off, “Hey, hey it’s ok. Yeah, you said something a little insensitive, but it’s not on you that Tony was already sitting on the edge there. I need you to breathe ok?”

Clint hadn’t noticed that his breath had started to come in gasps until Bucky pressed him back against his chest and breathed with exaggerated motions. Clint worked on matching the rhythm he set and slowly he found himself calming. As his breath and mind slowed down, Clint realized just how fucking  _tired_  he was. He was sore from the battle, and his body was fatigued, but now his mind was sapping what little energy he had left.

Bucky shifted so that his back was against an armchair and Clint’s head was resting on his thigh. His nails scraped gently along Clint’s scalp, and his metal arm was wrapped around his middle. Slowly Clint closed his eyes and allowed the warmth of the fire and the contact pull him under.

As his breathing evened out, Bucky sighed, “JARVIS is there any news?”

“Not as of yet. Ms. Romanov is attempting to break into the lab through the vents and Bruce is examining the blueprints of the room to find the safest place to break in through a wall.”

Bucky nodded, “And Steve?”

“Captain Rogers is distressed but is currently filling out his post-mission paperwork. I will update you once I hear anything.”

‘Thanks, J…”

Bucky looked down at the man in his lap, “It’ll be okay. We’ll work it all out.”

***

It was midmorning when the next call to Assemble came through. It was a local, non-supernatural problem. Some kid had been wandering through a construction site and fallen down a hole. It wasn’t the sort of thing the Avengers were actually  _needed_  for, but the kid, in addition to being a slippery footed pain in the ass, was also the son of the NYC Chief of Police. Not sending someone would cause way more problems than it was worth. Captain America had been specifically requested, so Bruce and Nat pulled him away from the Lab door and poured him into his uniform. Bucky had gone too, partly for the good PR (the former Winter Soldier needed all he could get), but also to keep Steve on track.

With the super soldiers deployed to deal with a not so super problem, Nat, Bruce, and Clint were left staring at the still locked door.

“Are you  _sure_  no part is safe to let the Hulk loose on?”

Bruce rolled his eyes at Natasha, “Yes Nat. I’m sure. If I thought there was a chance of getting through without collapsing the whole damn tower, I’d do it ok?”

Nat nodded and returned to staring at the door, hoping to magically explode it with her mind.

Suddenly, Clint shook himself, “Nope. Nope, I’m done. I’ve had enough. I can’t just stand here and wait. I’m going to fix this.”

Nat and Bruce shared a look, they knew Clint had spent the night in Bucky’s arms, silently berating himself for being the cause of Tony’s isolation. “Clint, you know that this isn—“

Clint cut Bruce off, “Yep, not my fault, got it. But that doesn’t change the fact that someone needs to do something.”

His face settled into a mask of determination, and he nodded sharply to himself before turning on his heel and marching up the stairs.

Bruce turned to Nat and raised a questioning eyebrow, all she could do in response was a shrug.

On the other side of the door, Tony was curled up on his side on the floor. His eyes were fixed on a screen that was giving him a rolling updating list of all the calls he missed and all the messages and emails Pepper had left. And all the alerts from the city. Tony knew about the issue with the kid in a hole. There was now a call for Iron Man to explain why he didn’t show.

People were suggesting that the famous Iron Man could not be bothered to concern himself with such a mundane task. ‘What else would you expect from such a self-centered man?’ Wrote one person on Twitter. Reports from the battle in Atlanta yesterday were also surfacing. Apparently, someone leaked that there was a problem with the suit and SI stocks had taken a dive as a result. If Tony Stark couldn’t be bothered to get the Iron Man suit working, what chance was there of his products functioning properly.

As he watched, another call from Pepper rolled in, he ignored it. After a minute or so, a voicemail notification appeared and sluggishly, Tony gestured for it to play.

“ _Tony, for fucks sake you better have a damn good reason for this. I’m here fending off the board and investors and the goddamn press with concerns over tech malfunctioning, and you can’t even pick up the phone. And now people want to know what you are doing that is so important that you can’t spare five minutes to pick a kid out of a hole._

_This is a PR disaster and, fuck, I thought we were done with this shit. You said you were going to be on it, that you were going to be better. You said that you would keep the PR nightmares to a minimum and at the very least you’d give me a heads up. I haven’t heard from you in weeks and then you dump this on me._

_I don’t know what I expected.”_

The message ended, and Tony found himself stifling a laugh.

He pushed his way to his hands and knees and shuffled to the cabinet where he kept his booze. Swinging the door open, Tony let out a frustrated sound when it became clear that the last bottle had been finished.

“Fuck!”

He slammed the door and made his way to his feet. “FUCK!”

Tony swayed as he stood, so he leaned against the cabinet for support. “Fuck… Well, no more booze then.”

As he watched, another 3 calls came in, and Tony dropped his head into his hands. He’d done it now, everything was fucked. The team was going to cop the bad press from his absence, and SI was in trouble because of his inability to hold his shit together.

Everything always came back to that, didn’t it?

Everything always came back to the fact that shit goes wrong when Tony Stark is involved. Everything he does, everything he doesn’t do, he can’t win.

What was the fucking point?

Tony brought the blade down and sliced through the skin on his wrist.

“FUCK!”

He threw the scalpel at the wall and staggered over to the couch where he dropped into the cushions.

Blood was seeping out from between his fingers and Tony stared at it in shock,

He hadn’t meant to do that.

Suddenly a cloth appeared, and someone was pushing his right hand out of the way. Tony looked up to see Clint’s face, mouth set in a grim line, inches from his own.

Clint was working quickly, the cloth wasn’t clean, but it would do, and he tied it tightly around tony’s wrist. He grabbed Tony’s right hand and pressed it over the cloth. “Tony, hold that ok? You need to press as hard as you can.”

Tony looked down at his wrist where blood had started seeping through the cloth. He tried to speak, but couldn’t find the words.

“What the hell were you thinking Tony?” Clint seemed to be talking mostly to himself as he pulled the covers off the nearest camera and ran over to unbolt the lab door before running back to Tony’s side.

“Tones, I’m going to pull your arm over my shoulder, and you are going to hold your left arm up in the air ok? Can you please do that for me?”

Tony just stared at the archer who waited for a second and then grabbed his right arm and slung it over his shoulder. Hefting the engineer to his feet, Clint grabbed his left arm and help it up in the air. He was halfway to the lab door when Nat burst in.

Clint thanked the universe for her Red Room training for the first time in his life because she didn’t even bat an eyelid, she just grabbed Tony’s left side and helped Clint pull him up the stairs. By the time they were at the top, Bruce was waiting for them with the first aid kit.

He applied a tourniquet quickly and without fuss and wrote the current time across Tony’s arm. Less than a minute later, they were in the quinjet and half way to SHEILD medical. Say what you want about SHEILD, but they were discreet.

Bruce was crouched by Tony’s side, keeping his eyes fixed on the wound that had stopped bleeding thanks to the tourniquet. His hand was resting on the top of his friend’s head, “Why would you do this Tony..?”

The non-medical doctor hadn’t been expecting a response, so he started when Tony spoke, “I… I didn’t mean to.” Tony closed his eyes, “I just… I don’t… I didn’t mean to, Steve’s going to be angry...”

Bruce smiled softly, “You’re going to be fine, and Steve is just going to want you to be ok. You know that. We’re touching down now, we’re going to look after you ok?” He stroked the hair of the genius again before the medical team burst through the door and stole him away.

As quickly as they came, they were gone, and Nat, Bruce, and Clint were alone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint got to Tony, and Tony is en route to hospital, but what happens next? Intervention is only the first step towards things actually being OK.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing particularly TW-able this chapter. But heads up for less than ideal attitudes from medical ppl and general post-event shock responses.
> 
> Sorry for the super long hiatus, uni life has been... Stressful, and I haven't been in the right head space for writing. But my final finals are next week and my wifi crapped out tonight. Minimal internet means no study which means procrasti-writing.  
> You are all very welcome.  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter. I would love to tell you how many are left, but I honestly don't know. I always intent the recovery arcs to be done in a chapter or two, but they never are bc I can never bring myself to write a magical "ride into the sunset" fix ending.

Steve smiled as the cameras flashed in his eyes as he and Bucky were posing for the reporters with the rescued kid. God how he  _hated_  this part of the Avenger’s gig, but if they didn’t take the good press opportunities then the bad would mount up, and they would all be fucked. Though honestly, the only thing stopping him from turning tail and running back to the Tower was Bucky’s very firm hand on his shoulder. When the other super soldier finally raised a hand to wave goodbye, Steve forced himself to copy the action and to match his pace to his friend’s as they walked to the waiting jet.

As soon as the ramp had closed, Steve found himself slumped to the floor. The rumble of the engines vibrated through the jet, and Steve found himself lost in the many little sounds. Someone was holding a muttered conversation up front, and there was something loose in the cargo section.

He didn’t even startle as a hand squeezed his shoulder. Bucky was crouching in front of Steve, his face concerned, “Hey, we’re done. We’re done.”

Steve just nodded, and Bucky shifted to kneel in front of his friend. “Gotta tell you something though ok?”

Steve lifted his head and met Bucky’s eyes. They autopilot at the edges and his brows drawn together, “What is it?”

Bucky paused for just a moment, but a moment long enough for something cold and hard to form in his gut. “We’re heading straight to SHIELD HQ.”

“No, we need to go home. I need to go straight home.”

Bucky shook his head slightly, “Stevie, we gotta go to SHIELD. Tony’s at SHIELD.”

Steve up a little straighter, “No, he’s at home in the Lab. How would he get to SHIELD? Nat would see him leave.”

Bucky sighed, “Clint got into the lab, they SENT him to SHIELD.”

“No, that doesn’t make any sense. They know Tony hates that place.” Steve pushed himself off the floor and stood over Bucky, “You need to stop messing around. We need to go home. We need to go home now!”

Steve pushed past Bucky and stormed up to the cockpit of the jet, only to find his way blocked up Natasha.

“Move.” He ground out through clenched teeth.

Natasha just cocked her head to the side, “Do you think we would pull something on you right now? Do you really think that little of us? Of James?”

Steve froze, no. He didn’t. None of this was making sense! Why was none of this making sense?!

He allowed Nat to steer him to a jump seat and he found himself sitting. Natasha crouched in front of him, and her hands were on his knees. “Steve, look at me.”

Steve forced himself to unclench his jaw and meet her eyes, she looked sad. “Steve Clint managed to get into the lab. He found Tony, and he was hurt. We called SHIELD to take him to the med bay because it was more discreet than a hospital. That’s why we are headed to SHIELD. This is not a trick; we are taking you to him.”

Steve forced himself to work through that. It took a painfully long time, and by the time he nodded, someone had wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, and Nat was sitting next to him. Her hand on his neck, nails scratching at the base of his scalp absently.

Satisfied that all was sorted on the Captain America Is In Shock front, Bucky made his way to the front of the jet, where a man sat piloting the plane.

Bucky took the co-captain seat and swivelled to face Clint. He was staring out the windshield resolutely, his jaw set and his eyes only ever darting to look at instruments. The archer gave no sign that he noticed his teammate sit down, he just looked straight ahead.

Bucky rubbed at his jaw, “Want to tell me what happened?”

Clint’s eyes didn’t even flicker, “Nope” he replied, popping the “p”.

“Can you at least tell me what shape we can expect Stark to be in?”

This time Clint’s eyes did drop, but just for a moment. When he replied, it was softer than before, “Nope.”

“ _Damn_.” Bucky dropped his head and ran his hands through his hair. If Clint wasn’t even sure how likely Tony was to make it out the other side, then it must have been bad. The former assassin allowed himself to take stock of the man who had become weirdly important to him since his return to America and free-will. Maybe it had been the shared trauma of mind control. Maybe it had been a shared sense of childish humour, but the two men had become firm friends.

Clint was still dressed in the dark grey sweats he was in when Bucky and Steve had left that morning, but now he was wearing combat boots and –

“—Clint is that blood on your forearms?”

Clint looked down for a moment, “Yeah. I think it is.”

The archer had taken a moment to wash his hands, but the underside of his forearms was covered in distinctive dark red streaks. On the second inspection, there were also stains on one of the knees of the sweatpants. Except these were darker, and the fabric clung to the skin underneath.

“Clint, are you hurt?”

The blonde seemed to take stock of himself, “…I’m not sure.”

Bucky slid off his seat and moved closer to Clint, “That’s ok. You don’t have to be sure.” He could see the way Clint sat rigidly in his seat, his knuckles were white, and his face seemed grey. “Clint, can you please put the auto pilot on for a moment?”

Clint remained unmoved, and Bucky took a step towards the smaller man. “JARVIS are you on the jet too?” Bucky felt a little stupid talking to what felt kinda like an empty room, but was more than willing to look stupid right now if it could make things a little better. He was, however, insanely relieved when the AI’s crisp British voice came over the speakers.

“I am indeed Sgt. Barnes. Would you like me to take over the jet’s controls?”

Bucky tried (and failed) not to sag with relief, “Yes, please. Thanks J.” He turned his attention back to Clint, who was still sitting in exactly the same position. Slowly, Bucky began peeling his fingers from the controls.

The archer began to shake as Bucky released his fingers. As soon as Clint’s hands were away from the stick, Bucky spun the chair and gathered him into his arms. The smaller man had begun to mumble as he was lifted bodily from the pilot’s seat and carried out of the cockpit.

“Buck, Bucky I gotta fly. I gotta do somethin’. I hafta get us to SHIELD.” Clint’s voice was shaky, and Bucky just held him close as he settled them both down on the seats against the fuselage walls.

“Clint, you did what you had to do. You picked me and Stevie up, and you got us in the air again. JARVIS has it from here, and we both know his landing will be smooth as hell. Way better than anything you have ever done.”

At the last comment, Clint scoffed slightly, and Bucky took this as a win and a sign to keep going. “You did everything right, and it’s time to stop moving for a second ok? Tasha has Steve, the doctors have Tony, and I’ve got you.”

The shaking had started to settle, and Bucky groped around for the second blanket he had grabbed earlier. He still had no idea exactly what had happened, but Tasha had said it had been bad and that Clint was really shaken. She didn’t, however, say Clint was injured. Honestly, she might not have known, if Clint was this freaked out, then Nat had to be feeling it on some level. But she also didn’t feel like this was all her fault…

Bucky took the opportunity to have a quick look at Clint’s leg. There were a few small rips in the fabric, and it wasn’t hard to open them up further. The skin underneath was marred by blood, though it quickly became evident that the injury looked worse than it was.

“What happened here?” Bucky tapped the side of Clint’s knee and was pleased when the archer followed the movement.

“I’m honestly not sure. I don’t remember it happening, but there was also a lot of broken glass on the floor. I think Tony had been throwing things around…”

Bucky nodded, “We should probably check you for glass then. You right to sit here while I go grab a med kit?”

Clint wrapped the blanket more securely around his shoulders, “Yeah, I'm okay. It’s just… It’s been a long day.” He offered Bucky a small smile.

“Yeah,” he replied, “I know.”

Natasha met Bucky’s eyes as he walked to the storage section and raised an eyebrow. Bucky smiled and shook his head, and then inclined it towards Steve who was curled up at the redhead’s side. His eyes were closed and the blanket was wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Nat offered Bucky a sad smile in return and shook her head slightly. Bucky got it, not a lot you could do to comfort someone in this situation. All they could do was be there.

By the time Bucky had finished patching up Clint’s leg (there WAS a piece of glass in there) and helping him into some clothes with slightly fewer blood stains the jet was approaching SHIELD and JARVIS had begun to slow in preparation for landing. Nat shook Steve gently and helped him stand.

The four Avengers gathered at the back of the jet, waiting for the ramp to be lowered. Clint was leaning heavily on Bucky, the adrenaline wearing off enough to let him realise that having a shard of glass in your knee fucking  _hurt_ , but standing tall. Steve had his jaw set and looked ready to take on anything he might find in the med bay.

***

Tony wished he could say that the next thing he remembered was waking up in an uncomfortable hospital bed surrounding by beeping, but it didn’t seem that he had that level of luck. He remembered the look on his friend’s faces as they loaded him into the jet, he remembered the looks the medical staff threw him, he remembered the discussion about whether to use local for the assessment of his injuries and the sutures and he remembered the comments about wasting their time on fake hero billionaires when there are real heroes who need attention.

Tony remembered the whole thing, and he was glad. It made him feel like absolute shit, and he deserved every second of it. He was in their way, taking up their time and space with self-inflicted wounds. The derision of the staff was clear in every interaction he had with them. Tony might be drunk off his head and incapable of dealing with his own emotions, but he was nowhere near stupid, and any kid who grew up with “interesting” parents knew when people were angry at them from a mile off.

It was a relief when the medical crew dumped him in a private room and shut the door. There was no call button or phone, but this was SHIELD, and there was no knowing what spy-level monitoring crap was around. Tony just rolled onto his right side, cradled his injured wrist and curled into a ball. They had said it wasn’t possible to sedate him until he sobered up and there was no way Tony was going to ask for any painkillers. So, the man just curled more tightly in on himself and waited.

***

Steve was finding his boyfriend, and he was finding him now.

He had no idea where in the medical bay Tony was, but surely it couldn’t be that big of a place. Steve hadn’t had much cause ever to go there himself, and the rest of his team avoid the place like the plague, so he was lost the minute he stepped through the doors.

Steve stopped dead in his tracks and stared around at the start of the med bay. He had no idea why, but Steve had been expecting something smaller, not what was effectively a small hospital. It made sense, SHIELD was a large organisation with thousands upon thousands of employees, but Steve had been expecting something more in line with a field medic station from WWII, and he was once again reminded how far away from his own time he really was.

Clint brushed past Steve, clapping him on the shoulder as he went. He eyed the man’s limp with concern.

Clint waltzed up to the reception desk and greeted the professional looking man on the other side.

“Agent Barton, are you finally here for that medical I’ve been asking Fury to have you reprimanded over? It is now,” the man looked down at something on his computer, “4 months overdue.”

Clint smiled his trademark shit-eating grin, “Not a chance in hell Roberts, I’m here for Stark.”

The man,  _Roberts,_ Steve thought, rolled his eyes, “they brought the billionaire lush in and stuck him out the back. He’s in one of the old observation rooms. I’m sure  _you_  know the way, Agent Barton?”

 

Steve started to stalk towards the man,  _whatever his name is_. No one spoke to his friends that way, but a cold, metal hand held him in place. “Leave it for now,” Bucky whispered in his ear. Steve nodded sharply but threw the pompous man at the desk his best death glare.

Clint had turned down a corridor, and the three Avengers followed him.

“Nat, what did that jackass mean when he said ‘I’m sure you know the way’ to Clint?” Steve had a feeling it was nothing complimentary.

Nat bit her lip in an uncharacteristic show of hesitation, “It’s where the bitchier nurses stick patients who ended up here doing something against regs, illegal or exceptionally stupid.” She paused and cracked a small smile, “That, unfortunately for  _Agent_  Barton, includes falling two stories down a ventilation shaft and into a restricted Level 7 area.”

 

Clint turned and stuck his tongue out at his long-time partner, before his face turned sombre, “So it either means that Tony has already pissed everyone off so much they are trying to get rid of him, or they think he deserves to suffer.”  _And in SHIELD medical with self-inflicted injuries, it is usually the latter_ , Clint added silently. He sped up as much as he could without drawing too much attention. The sooner they got Tony out of here, the better. SHIELD might have been the best choice for emergency treatment, but only because there wasn’t time to do a proper security vetting of a private staff. SHIELD was practical and frighteningly efficient, but a lot of the medical personnel had a terrible attitude towards mental illness, something that the SHIELD psychological team was constantly trying (and failing) to change.

They rounded a corner and Steve finally had eyes on his boyfriend. Nothing could have stopped him from breaking into a run at that point, and he was at the door to the room a heartbeat later. Nat was right behind him and punched a code into the pad next to the door, which then quickly swung open. Tony didn’t even react to the door opening. He was curled up on the thin hospital mattress and looked incredibly fragile. Steve knelt down at his head and brushed the dark hair off Tony’s forehead, prompting him to blink a few times.

Steve smiled gently, “Hey sunshine, how’re you feeling?”

Tony seemed to take a moment to consider the question, “Cold, mostly.”

Steve nodded and looked around the room. It was woefully bare, there wasn’t even a blanket on the bed. He looked up at Natasha. She nodded, “How about we go and get some information and a blanket and let you two have a moment?”

She looked up at Clint and Bucky who nodded, and the quickly exited the room.

Bucky closed the glass door behind them, and they took a few steps down the deserted corridor. “You really weren’t kidding when you said these rooms were out of the way were you?”

Clint and Natasha both shook their heads. “They mostly get used during large-scale events where there are a shit load of casualties or during disease outbreaks or something.” Clint was leaning into Bucky’s side, and Bucky threw his arm around his shoulders and drew him in closer.

Nat bit her lip, “If he’s been stuck out here without even a fucking blanket I think we need to find out exactly what they  _have_  done, what needs to be done and where we go from here.” She seemed to settle slightly at the thought of having a plan, shaking her shoulders out and setting her jaw. “Ok, so let’s keep things a little under wraps right now, I don’t feel like dealing with the righteous anger of Captain America right now.”

The boys nodded, and she continued, “You two go and get something to keep the poor guy warm and Clint, I know you hate them, but you need to go talk to psych and see if someone can come down.”

Clint whined predictably, “Awww…. Do I have to talk to psych?”

Nat rolled her eyes, “You can talk to psych and find blankets, or you can go and flirt with Roberts the “Pompous Asshole” for intel.”

Clint nodded, “Right! Psych it is.” He grabbed Bucky’s metal hand and began to drag him away from Tony’s room.

Nat sighed, she had no idea what was going on between those two, but now was  _so_ not the time to be dealing with it. She squared her shoulders and went to find out what was going on.

***

In the end, it only took a few hours to get everything sorted. Nat had some choice words with Fury and Maria, who in turn had a few  _choice_  words with the last shift medical staff who were sternly reminded that Stark was not only a fucking  _Avenger_  but also one of the main financial benefactors to the organisation as a whole. The lot of them had the next month of Sundays with a gleeful psych department to go over some sensitivity “re-education”.

Tony was examined and interviewed, and he sighed with relief at the pronouncement that there seemed to be little chance of lasting nerve damage. He had been terrified that the numbness in his middle finger would be permanent, but the hand surgeon had said a lot of things about inflammation and swelling and trauma, but honestly, Tony had just nodded and let his eyes glaze over after he heard ‘temporary’. The surgeon had “tsk-ed” over the sutures but declared them “adequate” and left the room soon afterwards.

The shrink had said something about depression when she had visited. Tony was unsurprised. JARVIS had diagnosed that weeks ago.

He was tired. Every single fibre of his being was exhausted. He could barely keep his eyes open. He had absolutely no idea how he’d ever managed to run on little to no sleep, when he currently felt capable of sleeping forever.

A nice long, 5-year nap.

A short coma.

Sounded nice…

***

Steve rubbed the stubble on his jaw and looked at the SHIELD psych, “So, what do we do now?”

She sighed and looked back through the window at her newest patient, “Well the shitty thing is that there is no magic cure here.” She looked at Steve intently, “I mean it. This didn’t come on in a week, and it’s not going to go away in a week. From what you have told me and from what Tony has said, the guy has had plenty to deal with in his life and has responded by working through precisely none of it.”

The woman ran a hand through her hair, “Fury said something about an omnipresent AI at the tower?” Steve nodded, and she continued, “Honestly if he will be more comfortable there and actually well observed then I am happy to release him on a few conditions. We’re going to have to keep a close eye on him, which I know is hard and a lot to put on you, and if you can’t that’s fine, but he’ll have to stay here.”

Steve started to shake his head, “Honestly, we’ve done more for people we didn’t care about nearly as much. And JARVIS will make it a lot easier.”

The psych,  _what was her name again….?_  Nodded, “Ok, just talk to the team and make sure everyone is on board. I’m also pulling Tony from the active roster for the Avengers until  _I_  decide otherwise. I don’t care if there are literally aliens raining from the sky again, he is not on duty until I say so.”

 

Steve nodded along as she continued, “I’ll also be travelling to the Tower every other day for sessions with Tony, but I’d also like to organise someone to talk to the rest of the team as well. This sort of thing is traumatic for everyone involved, and I hate to be blunt, but we need as many of the Avengers on track as possible. So consider this notice for mandatory counselling,  _not_  just evals, but actually planned sessions that people have to attend or be benched.

 

“You also need to talk to the Stark Industry side everything and work something out there. I doubt we’ll be able to keep Tony out of the workshop for long, but I’m more concerned with keeping him from feeling like he  _has_  to be in the workshop.”

Steve nodded, “I’ll take care of it. I know the CEO of SI pretty well, and she’ll just want to help. Ok, is there anything else?”

“No, I think that covers it. Oh, just, if Tony decides to talk to you, to any one of you, just listen, and be supportive. But also look after yourselves. Your mental health matters too.” With that final remark, she turned on one undoubtedly expensive heel and left.

Steve felt Bucky come up behind him and wrap his metal arm around his shoulders, “We’re gonna get through this ok? You got a whole team behind ya Stevie. You’re not doin this alone.”

“Thanks, Buck.” Steve handed the file the psych had left him over to Bucky, “Let’s go home, yeah?”

Bucky looked down the corridor where Clint was laying with his head in Natasha’s lap, he was dozing while she ran her hands through his hair. Bucky smiled, “Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, just realised I never actually said where Bruce is during this chapter. I didn't forget about him, but it just never came up. He's back at the Tower bc he's more than a little stressed and decided that maybe a jet wasn't the best place for him right now. He's fine, just didn't want to be worried about taking down all the Avengers at 10,000 ft


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone heads back to the tower and starts to unpack what has happened.

Tony slept the entire way back to the tower. Bruce had spoken with one of the SHIELD psychiatrists before they left, and she had agreed that Tony could definitely use something to help him sleep and something else for the depression and anxiety. JARVIS had informed them that it had been almost a full month since the engineer had managed to get more than three hours sleep a night and Steve was kicking himself for letting this all go on for so long. No sleep + stress + Avenger-ing = a perfect storm for a mental health breakdown.

So Tony was a little more than lightly sedated for the trip home and was therefore totally unaware of the way his own personal Avenger was hugging him to his chest. It was almost as if Steve believed that if he held on tightly enough, his partner could be absorbed into his chest. If Tony was physically shielded by Steve, then he could never get hurt again. Right? It was a sweet thought, but Bucky’s heart really went out to Steve right now. There was nothing his friend could do to fix this in the short term, but Steve Rogers never met an impossible task he didn’t want to punch in the face.

Other than Tony’s soft snores and the hum of the engines, the cabin on the quinjet was silent. JARVIS had retaken control, and this left Clint free to try to disappear and hide up somewhere. It only took a matter of minutes for Bucky to find him hiding at the back of the cargo section, wedged in behind a storage box.

Bucky crouched down in front of the archer, “Wanna to talk to me instead of preformin’ a contortionist act?”

Clint tucked his chin and laughed gently, “Nah, I’m right thanks. Working on a new act in case I have to go back to the circus.”

Bucky pushed his way into Clint’s tiny space, “Well at least you have a trade to fall back on when all of this superhero shit falls to the side.”

“Exactly, I’m not hiding, I’m planning ahead.”

Chuckling, Bucky put his arm around Clint and dragged the archer closer, “If you say so. Want to tell me what happened when you got into the workshop? You looked pretty shaken up.”

Clint sighed, “It was all just so much,” he pushed the heels of his hands into his closed eyes, “He was standing in front of one of the holoscreens listening to voicemails, and he just seemed to lose it. He had this blade in his hand, and I was running for him. It took me so long to get into the workshop, but if I had worked a little faster, I would have gotten there before he slipped. He was in a bad way, sure, but we could have avoided the whole trip to SHIELD.”

Buck was shaking his head before Clint could finish, “Honestly? I think this was a good thing.” Clint raised an eyebrow as Bucky continued, “If you _had_ dropped in five minutes earlier, then yes, we would have probably avoided a trip to SHIELD. And sure, maybe Tony wasn’t trying to hurt himself badly enough to land himself in hospital, but the real problem is that he’s hurting himself in the first place. You can’t really work safely in our line of work when you give in to self-destructive impulses.”

Clint snuggled closer to Bucky, “Yeah, yeah you’re right. I guess things need to come to a head before they could get better.”

Bucky nodded, “Now things are out in the open, and we can deal with them.” He paused and pulled back to look at the archer, “I think _everyone_ needs to be upfront about what they are dealing with.”

Biting his lip, Clint tried his best to hide his face, but Bucky wasn’t having any of it, “C’mon doll, you know I’m here for you, but I can’t do a thing if you won’t talk to me.”

“I just kept thinking about how many people are dead because of me. I’ve made my peace with a lot of them, but I couldn’t handle being the reason I lost someone on the team.”

Bucky sighed and pulled Clint back in, “You need to talk to someone about this. Loki and pre-SHIELD life aside, we work in a hazardous environment. Any of us could be seriously injured or killed on a mission. You can’t be everywhere at once in the field, and things _will_ go wrong at some point. You can’t live with the anxiety of needing to save everyone all the time. It’s just not maintainable.”

Bucky had his arms wrapped tightly around Clint, and he began to realise that not everything he felt for his teammate was strictly platonic. Sure, Bucky cared about all of his teammates, they pulled him back from the brink and helped him find himself again, but Clint was something more. He wanted to make sure the snarky, blonde asshole of the team was as happy as possible and Bucky quickly realised there were very few things he wouldn’t do to make that happen.

To Clint’s intense shame, emotions that he had fought to bury were rising to the surface and leaking out his eyes. His face was hidden in Bucky’s chest, and the tears were soaking into the fabric of his shirt. At least with his face buried, Clint wouldn’t have to see how Bucky was handling his outburst. To say he was shocked to feel a kiss pressed to the top of his head would be an understatement. Shocked, but not unhappy.  Sure, this was a shit time to realise his feelings might be reciprocated, but after the last few days, Clint would take what he could get.

It was only a short few minutes later that JARVIS was bringing the jet to a gentle landing on the pad of the tower and everyone started to shuffle out quietly. Clint stayed pillowed against Bucky’s chest and was totally oblivious to the silent exchange that was occurring over his head between Buck and Natasha. Bucky assured her that her long-time partner would be well cared for. She smiled and headed inside.

Steve carried his partner out of the jet and into the Tower. They had said that Tony would likely be asleep for quite some time still, between his exhaustion and the drugs and that it was ok and normal.

Didn’t stop Steve from worrying.

The engineer just looked so tiny in the giant bed. How had Steve missed the way tony slowly imploding? How had he missed the way new scars kept piling up around the reactor? How had he missed the way exhaustion had claimed his love. Yes, things had been hectic over the last week, but Steve was meant to do better. He was Captain America for god sakes, he should be able to watch over the man he loved.

Shaking his head, Steve stripped off his uniform and crawled into bed beside Tony. If the doctor said sleep, Steve would make sure he damn well slept. He may have been remiss in his duties thus far, but nothing was going to get by Steve now.

He set his jaw and rolled over, pulling the sleeping genius into his arms and tucking his nose into the crook of Tony’s neck.

***

When Tony woke up, the first thing he noticed was the way it felt as if he was wrapped in a human furnace. He couldn’t remember the last time he woke up in his lover’s arms. It had been a month at least. Between Tony’s insomnia and work commitments, and Steve’s dedication to early morning exercise and Avenging… things… Their schedules rarely lined up.

The second thing he noticed was the way he _ached_. Everything hurt.

His head was pounding with the mother of all headaches, his chest stung with a feeling that was all too familiar, and his wrist was bandaged. The whole night was blurry. It took him a second, but with a headache, vauge nausea and the furry feeling in his mouth, it all added up to  _hungover._

Hungover, but not just from booze, also with some sort of drug. Tony had a whole decade of overindulgence to draw from, and if he had to guess, he would say this hangover came from booze plus some sort of opiate and a benzo.

Tony was pretty sure that last night didn’t have any parties or drugs planned, and the sting in his chest and wrist said _hospital._

He groaned and rolled over to bury his face into the boiling wall of supersoldier chest. The movement caused his partner to stir and slowly claw his way to consciousness.

Steve yawned and stretched before pulling tony in tighter, tucking him under his chin.

“Morning love, how’re you feeling?”

Tony mumbled a reply that was well and truly lost in the wall of muscle that his face was pressed against.

Steve pulled back and looked down at his partner, smiling, “I’m sorry, I missed that.”

“I said, everything hurts, I can’t breathe, and you are boiling me alive.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense,” Steve loosened his grip and pushed himself up into a seated position, “I think we need to talk about everything that happened.”

Tony rubbed his jaw, “Yeah, about that… What _did_ happen? I figured I must have drunk my own weight in scotch because everything is kinda… Fuzzy…”

Steve sighed, “Yeah. So some of the night is going to be a mystery to us all, but the general gist is that Clint made a poorly thought out joke, it hit a nerve for you, and you seem to have barricaded yourself in the lab. Clint finally broke in and found you absolutely pissed, surrounded by broken glass, a bleeding chest and a _really_ bleeding wrist. They got you to SHIELD who stabilised you, treated you like shit and then we got you back here.”

Tony bit his lip, “Right, well that sounds… Like a full and varied evening for all…” He paused, “So if I was at SHIELD I take it that they know about my messed up head?”

Steve laughed gently, “Yeah, you could say that. The psych department may have been down to see you, and they have several conditions. And not just for you, but for all of us. Seems like your slip-up has highlighted some issues in the team and we have to get them under control before things spiral any further.”

Tony nodded, “I remember seeing someone… She said something about counselling sessions and medication?”

“Yeah. Something to help with the anxiety and depression, as something to help you sleep.” Tony started to make objection noises, and Steve was quick to cut him off, “it’s only there to help you love. And you _have_ to know that even just getting some more sleep is going to help.”

Tony huffed, “I don’t want to be reliant on medication. I’ve been doing just fine without it!”

Steve shook his head, “Sweetheart, it’s not a forever thing, it’s just to help you get back on your feet. And you _haven’t_ been doing fine without it. You’ve been spiralling for weeks now, and this is where you landed this time. Where will it be next time?”

“It’s a crutch, I _can’t_ rely on something else to survive Steve, I can’t.”

Tony’s breath was starting to come faster and harder, and Steve intervened, “Ok, look, first, I need you to breathe. Breathe with me, ok? Just like you make me, Buck or Clint do.” He waited until the engineer no longer looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack before he continued, “And there is _nothing_ wrong with needing a crutch for a bit. It’s just something you use while you heal. Remember when Tasha did her knee, and she was on crutches for four weeks?”

Tony nodded reluctantly, and Steve pushed ahead, “She isn’t the sort of person to take the easy way out or to have to rely on something she can do without. But even Nat knew that without the crutches, she wasn’t going to be able to get around while her leg was busted up. There is nothing bad about a crutch. You’ve got someone offering you a way to get through the day _without_ feeling like total shit.” Steve used a finger to tip Tony’s head up, “Please let us help you.”

Tony closed his eyes, unable to meet his partner’s gaze as he nodded, “Ok,” he whispered, “Ok…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't have many excuses as to why I haven't updated in so long. So.. Sorry?


	8. Chapter 8

Apparently, the first step to letting himself be helped was allowing the team to create a highly regimented schedule for him. Pepper had already worked it so that he had a few weeks off from SI and it was unanimously decided that anyone showing overtly self-destructive tendencies should be benched from active duty, so now all Tony had was this bloody timetable.

Seven thirty every morning saw Steve back from his run and dragging Tony out of bed and into the kitchen where one of the murder twins (Nat or Clint) pushed a plate of food in front of him. Well, food, coffee and a tiny little cup containing his pharmaceutical crutch.

Steve would be mad if he knew that Tony was still viewing the stupid little capsule with such distaste, but what his partner didn’t know…

His day was taken up with closely supervised workshop time, talking about his feelings time, forced socialisation time or training, depending on the day. The talking felt like bullshit and socialisation was the last thing Tony wanted to do at the moment, but after a few days, he had to admit there was something nice about not worrying about being alone, or taking up someone’s time. Apparently the team had always been quite social with each other, communal meals, movie nights, video game tournaments, but Tony had always been too wrapped up in his lab to know.

The aggressive inclusion was… comforting.

It was a nice addition to the blur his life had become. Apparently it was one of the more subtle side effects of the antidepressants. Tony had JARVIS do some digging and apparently it interfered with the movement and storage of short-term memory. So at least there was a reason for the blur, but it was nice to know that he hadn’t lost any time and done something stupid.

So when the call to Assemble finally came in, Tony was curled up, half asleep on the couch with Nat and Clint in one of his allotted “socialisation” windows. The claxon went off and there was a flurry of activity, Nat lept off the couch and ran from the room to be joined by Bruce in the corridor. Steve slid into the room and skidded to a halt in front of Tony with a “I love you, stay out of trouble.”

Tony smiled and accepted the kiss pressed to his forehead. He had expected to be left behind, he was benched after all, but he hadn’t expected it to sting so much. For it to leave him feeling so guilty. The mechanic flopped back against the pillows with a rough sigh as his mind immediately fell back on tried and tested methods of self destruction. He counted to fifty before pushing to his feet and starting to make his way to the lab.

He started suddenly as something grabbed his wrist, turning around his eye met that of Clint’s. The archer’s mouth set in a grim line.

Tony barked out a harsh laugh, “What the hell did you do that you got stuck behind on crazy man baby sitting duty?”

Clint dropped his hand roughly, “You’re not the only one with issues Stark. Turns out having a new SHIELD psych come in was not the best thing for me.”

Tony narrowed his eyes in confusion, “what?”

Clint ran his hands through his cropped hair and dropped back into the couch cushions, “Well it turns out that the SHIELD psych had decided that having me in the field was more important than looking after me on a cost/benefit thing. So he passed me when he shouldn’t have based on the agreed team criteria. When the psych department did an overhaul of the rest of operations and med, the assigned us a new evaluator. Margarete found some serious issues within our team and made some new suggestions.”

Tony continued to frown, “So she's the one who is to blame for my daily timetable?”

Clint nodded, “yeah, she also re-evaluated everyone on the team and was the one who suggested screening the team for self-destructive tendencies.” He scratched at the rough stubble on his chin before continuing, “you might have guessed that you failed her screening in a truly spectacular form, which is why you are benched.”

Tony nodded, “what else did she find?”

“Well, it was decided that the team, in general, has not been treated too well and that things have been overlooked when they shouldn’t have been. I’ve been benched for anything short of a world-ending event.”

So that explained why Clint was here…

“I won’t say that it’s totally unrelated to you, because they don’t want to leave you here alone yet, but you aren’t the reason _I’m_ here. The other thing that has been recommended is that we talk openly about our results so we can look out for each other. And I’m assuming Steven hasn’t mentioned anything to you at all.”

Tony bit his lip, “Was he meant to…?”

“Yeah... He’s being re-evaluated sooner than the others. Margarete is concerned about the degree of risk-taking behavior in the field, as well as the effect your incident will have on him.”

Tony felt the familiar feeling of guilt and shame uncurl in his gut, but Clint pushed on before he could dwell too much on it, “It’s not your fault, and it’s been going on far longer than the two of you have been together. Kid’s got issues he never had the time or the inclination to deal with.”

Tony found himself nodding, but worrying his bottom lip, “Do you think he’ll be fine today?”

Clint smiled, “Yeah, we wouldn’t have let him go if we didn’t. Talking about feelings is stupid, and it sucks, but if we don’t get better about it, someone is going to die, and I can’t deal with that.”

“So, I’m outright destructive, what makes you so dangerous to have in the field?”

Clint laughed, “Guilt, mostly. Turns out I’ll do anything to save a teammate, and it eclipses my ability to make rational decisions.”

“Huh, who would have guessed?” Tony flopped down on the couch next to Clint.

“Yeah, imagine that being mind controlled and killing a whole heap of your colleagues and your handler fucks with your head.”

“It’s truly a mystery to us all.”

Tony realized he was laughing. Talking to Clint was so amazingly comfortable, nothing he said sending anyone into a panicked spiral and Clint could actually relate. Maybe this “being social” crap was actually worth it.

Clint was smiling as he leaned back on the couch, “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

“On one condition, you have to tell me what is going on between you and Buck.”

Clint broke into an honest to go laughing fit, “You know, I have no freaking idea. But whatever it is, it’s nice and comfortable and a helluva lot of fun.”

“That’s really all that matters, to be honest,” Tony paused and let the moment of serenity fade into mock seriousness, “Now let me kick your ass at Mario Kart.”

“Yeah right old man, I hold the records on this thing.”

***

By the time Steve and the team made it home, Clint and Tony were wholly absorbed in their game. The mission had been short and relatively uneventful. Turns out some aliens took a wrong turn and ended up in the Mohave Desert instead other their intended planet and just needed some help keeping the nosey locals away while they got back up and running. SHIELD had, of course, panicked the minute they saw a spaceship and hit the panic button way too early.

Regardless, 3 hours later, the team was covered in dust and exhausted, but no worse for wear. It was a relief to find the benched members of the group exactly where they had been left and entirely unharmed. To say Steve was stressed was the understatement of the century and it had been driving Bucky insane. Nat was good at hiding her emotions, but Bucky could tell that even she was at the end of her patience with the mother hen routine.

Bucky strode into the living room and stood directly in front of Clint, “I’ve been trying to talk to you for 10 minutes. Put that controller down and listen.”

Clint blinked a few times, as Tony took advantage of the distraction to blast past the archer and win the final race of their tournament.

“Aw, kart, no… Buck look what you let happen!”

Bucky smirked, his eyes flicking towards Tony and finding that the man was smiling with genuine emotion for the first time in a while. “Pft, you’ll live. Now I have to go and shower and get changed. But I think I have a cut on my back, help me check it?”

Tony rolled his eyes at the less than subtle invitation Clint just got. As expected, Clint was out of his seat like a shot, “Catch ya tin can! Got more important things to do!”

Tony laughed and shouted after the hastily retreating men, “USE PROTECTION!” Still smirking, his eyes fell on his Captain. “How did it go?”

Steve looked distracted, but his eyes snapped up quickly, “Really well. We really were not needed. SHIELD panics whenever aliens are involved.”

Tony nodded, “Makes sense.”

“You look happy.”

Tony smiled, but he could feel the good and relaxed mood of Clint’s company fading as quickly as it had come on. It was like everything took energy and now he had run out. “I had a good time with Clint, he’s easy to talk to.”

Steve bit his lip and frowned slightly, but pushed on regardless, “Want to come and help me get the desert dust off?”

Tony huffed a short laugh, “what, no small, already healed injury to use as an excuse?”

Finally, Steve smiled, “Oh love, everyone already knows we are fucking, we don’t need to come up with an excuse.”

Tony threw a hand over his heart, “Oh my! Did Captain America just swear? My heart! How can I take this shock?”

Steve chuckled as he scooped a faux fainted Tony Stark into his arms, and princess carried him to their suite.

Tony snuggled into his soldier’s chest. Nothing was fixed, not by a really long way, but for the first time in a long time, he began to think that just maybe there might be a way out.

***

It would be months later when Tony finally realized that his great days outnumbered his ok ones, and the ok ones far outnumbered his bad ones. Nothing stayed terrible forever, but with the support of his team, he knew he would be safe until the shit bits passed.

Tony no longer dreaded being left alone, scared of what he might do to himself, he no longer thought that the rest of the team would be tainted by him, should he ask for help. He no longer saw discussing your problems as a weakness.

It wasn’t until Natasha admitted that she more than once thought about giving up during a fight at the start of her days with SHIELD that Tony realized that strength had nothing to do with falling down.

The team put time aside to check in with each other, and when they noticed that Steve had begun to feel guilty for not being able to help Tony on his own, the sentiment was caught and set straight early.

They communicated.

 

And they were better for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not 100% sold on the conclusion, but what can you do?
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who has followed this through from the beginning, I honestly would have abandoned this if not for your comments and encouragement. Please don't forget you can find me on Tumblr at catelynjoneswrites.tumblr.com
> 
> I'm up for chats, fan theories, prompts and general shit.
> 
> I'm a depressed, possibly suicidal veterinarian and I post about shit to make myself feel better.

**Author's Note:**

> Also I now have tumblr, so drop by and say hi!  
> catelynjoneswrites.tumblr.com


End file.
